Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

Baltar: "I don't want to miss a moment of the last Battlestar's destruction!"
Centurion: "Sir, I really think you should look at the other Battlestar."
Baltar: "What are you babbling about other...it's impossible!"
Centurion: "No. It is a Battlestar."

Corrax Entry 7:17: So you walk eternally through the shadow realms, standing against evil where all others falter. May your thirst for retribution never quench, may the blood on your sword never dry, and may we never need you again.

I am really digging the trolling of Vader. This is really good. Of all the back n forth with regard to various ST vs SW scenarios on this website and where there would be no contest that SW should win 99.9 times out of 100. The way you opened up this first contact scenario is pretty genius. They don't automatically run into the Federation; but something that can fling VADER (of all people) around like a rag doll for a bit.

Note: My research indicates that their are various canonical captains for the Devastator (though I'm not sure if they're all still valid in the new canon), but I wasn't sure which one would be in command at this time, so I made one up.

My rule of thumb for Star Wars fics is to stay true to both the fact and spirit of film and TV canon, while using or discarding the EU as it suites my story.

Thanks again to Eternal_Freedom for help proof-reading and revising the rough draft of this chapter (though I've made some additional tweaks myself).

Firmus sat stiffly in his tall black chair, trying not to fidget as he mentally went over the contents of the data pad in his pocket. He looked up, his posture stiffening as the doors slid open and Admiral Ozzel strode in, followed a moment later by Commanders Aves and Dornaj, who were holding a quiet but animated conversation. They broke off as they realized that the captain's eyes were on them, however, and took their seats on the opposite side of the table. Ozzel paced around the table and sat next to Firmus.

They carefully avoided looking at one another. An atmosphere of palpable tension had pervaded the Executor in the days since they had been transported to this new system, and both of the command ship's senior officers had been treading carefully. Firmus shivered as he remembered the moment after that flash of light, a moment's silence as everyone realized that they were still alive, and then the com. officer's report that the station had transported them nearly a hundred light years in an instant. He had stood their, the only sound the deep rasping of Lord Vader's respirator behind him, before the Dark Lord had turned and swept wordlessly from the Executor's bridge.

Since that day, Lord Vader had not been seen on the bridge, and as far as Firmus knew, had not left his own quarters. Admiral Ozzel had likewise been unusually circumspect, doing his best to avoid drawing any attention to himself. Firmus had been expecting some rebuke or censure for his peremptory order to fire on the Station, but none had been forthcoming, perhaps because both men suspected that Lord Vader would have approved the order. And so, it had fallen primarily on him to oversee the day to day operations of the Empire's most powerful warship, without the oversight of his two immediate superiors.

Presuming we ever return to the Empire, Firmus thought, and quickly suppressed it. It wasn't wise to even think such things in Lord Vader's presence. In truth, he preferred to operate without constant oversight, though it would not do to think such thoughts too loudly, either. He knew his duty and did it, quietly and well, and it had carried him far in the Emperor's service.

Most of the seats around the conference table had been filled now. Firmus looked up as the door slid open once again and the sound of mechanical breathing filled the room, sitting up straighter in his seat as the black-cloaked form of Lord Vader swept into the room. He tried not to fidget as Lord Vader strode to his place at the table, crossing behind him. Vader, as was his custom, did not sit, but remained standing on Admiral Ozzel's side opposite Firmus. There was a moment of silence. The Admiral broke it.

"Captain Piett, what is the status of the fleet?"

Firmus cleared his throat nervously and began his report.

"The Department Heads report that all ships and major systems are operating within acceptable parameters. Commander Aves informs me that we suffered significant damage to fragile subsystems on the outer hulls of our ships, particularly the sensor and communication arrays, during transport to this system; as well as structural strain similar to that sustained during a low-velocity collision. However, he assures me that the structural damage posses no significant short-term risk and most of the damage to subsystems is reparable using available spares and maintenance crews." He didn't particularly like foisting responsibility off onto a subordinate, but he wasn't an engineer. He had little choice but to simply cite the Commander's report.

"And our supplies?"

"We have sufficient consumables for several more months of standard operations, and we can nearly double that if need be by rationing food supplies and cutting power to non-essential systems. However, sustained combat operations will drain our resources rapidly if we cannot establish a reliable source of fuel and munitions."

"And have you attempted to locate such a source?" the Admiral almost sneered.

"This system is lacking in most raw materials", Firmus replied, containing his irritation at his superior. "I have dispatched probe droids to neighboring systems, and have detected a possible source of Tybana Gas in the system designated B2-106 in the Astrogation report. Commander Aves has informed me that some of our shuttles can be modified to collect the gas, and is currently running simulations on the feasibility of setting up processing facilities in one of the hanger bays."

"Is that really necessary" the Admiral countered. "Surely we will be able to return to Imperial space long before such concerns become pressing."

Firmus gave no visible sign of the anger and tension he was feeling, but it was difficult. The Admiral had set him up to undermine him, albeit in a rather clumsy manner. And Lord Vader was watching.

"Do not allow your complacency to blind you, Admiral" Lord Vader's voice intoned, the words carrying just a hint of a threat. The Dark Lord turned towards Firmus. "Have you determined how we were brought to this galaxy?"

Firmus forced himself not to blink, or look away.

"No, My Lord. We have confirmed that we were transported by an unknown spatial distortion which largely conforms to the expected parameters of the theoretical phenomenon known as a "wormhole". Given our recorded velocity, it is likely that we have been transported across most of the known universe. However, their are some readings that we have as yet been unable to decipher. Most concerning, the readings do not match those of the energy wave that the station used to transport us to this system."

"These phenomena are unrelated?"

Firmus turned to his Chief Engineer.

"Commander Aves?"

"Impossible to confirm without further study of the Station, My Lord" Aves said unhappily. "However, that is the most likely conclusion, based on available data."

"Then it is imperative that we gain control of this station", Lord Vader intoned.

Commander Aves glanced at Firmus, who replied for the Commander.

"I understand that Commander Dornaj has completed his analysis of our last engagement."

The weapons officer took his cue and continued.

"Yes Sir." He pulled out a datapad and inserted it into a socket beneath the table, and a few moments later, a large blue holo-display appeared in the centre of the table. It displayed the Station, the position of their fleet during the assault, and the pulsing energy wave which had struck them. Data and annotations scrolled along either side of the display.

"As you can see" the Commander gestured at the data, "the Station's power output is only a fraction of that of the Executor. Based on our analysis, however, the energy weapon it employed operated on a different frequency from our shields, allowing it to bypass them. It then appears to have acted as a sort of Hyperspatial tractor beam, propelling our fleet through space at faster-than-light velocities."

"Can't we angle or modify our shields to repel this weapon?" the Admiral asked.

Dornaj glanced at Aves.

"No Sir" the engineer replied. "Such modifications might be theoretically possible, but would require access to a space dock facility."

"So what do you propose?"

Commander Dornaj resumed his presentation, after another glance at Aves. The engineer frowned, but said nothing. No doubt this was the subject of their previous disagreement, Firmus thought.

"Given the ineffectiveness of our ion canons, I would recommend a bombardment by our turbolaser batteries. Due to the lack of effective shielding, the Station should be swiftly disabled."

"Do you concur, Commander?", the Admiral asked.

"Commander Dornaj's plan is certainly likely to disable the Station" the engineer replied cautiously. "However, I estimate that it has a 46% chance of causing catastrophic or fatal damage to the Station, leaving us unable to take it intact."

"You propose an alternative?"

"Yes Sir. Scans of the station during the engagement indicate that the ion cannons did have cause a minor disruption to the station's systems. Our simulations show that a heavier bombardment will most likely disable it with minimal damage."

Firmus frowned. They had already tried to take the Station intact once, and failed. Trying again with more firepower seemed to be inviting failure, and there was no guarantee that the Station would restrain itself to a non-lethal counter-attack this time. It had not escaped him, and he knew that it had not escaped any of the senior officers, that the Station could have as easily transported them into a star or a black hole. However, there was only one person in this room who's decision mattered.

"Will one destroyer be sufficient?"

Aves hesitated.

"Two would increase our chances of disabling the Station before it could return fire, My Lord."

"We will require complete surprise", Lord Vader declared. He turned to Firmus. The captain noticed Ozzel swallowing his irritation at the slight, and winced inwardly. "Have the Devastator and the Avenger prepare for battle. Slave the Avenger's helm to the Devastator's controls. We will commence our assault in two hours."

Firmus wondered what the Dark Lord was planning, but only momentarily. He had his orders.

"Yes My Lord."

***

Two Hours Later.

Lord Vader strode through the doors of the Devastator's bridge, feeling the spike in tension and anticipation as the crew of his former flagship stood at attention. He let their fear wash over him as he paced to the center of the bridge and turned to Captain Wissel.

"All systems are ready, My Lord. The Avenger is standing by."

"Bring us out of Hyperspace 100 kilometres off the Station."

The captain hesitated.

"My Lord... a precision hyperspace jump within a star system..."

Vader felt a surge of anger, but he controlled it, shaping it, honing it as he called upon the Dark Side of the Force. The maneuver was difficult, for a navi-computer. But not for him.

"Leave that to me."

He strode to the helm station.

"You are relieved, Lieutenant."

"Yes My Lord". The young office at the Helm started, then quickly rose and stepped back. Vader examined the controls for a moment, then reached out with the Force. He could feel the shapes of the Star Destroyers floating in space, the currents of the Force connecting normal space and Hyperspace, the controls and the engines, the Devastator's computers and the Avenger's, the fleet and the distant bulk of the alien station. He reached out to the controls with his mind, his will, paying scant attention to the long-range scans, or the computer's calculations. He did not need them. They were merely a distraction.

"Prepare for battle stations."

"Battle stations!" the captain snapped, and an alarm began to blare.

Feeling the power of the Dark Side flowing through him, Lord Vader activated the helm controls. He felt space twist around them, felt them shoot across 90 light years in an instant and emerge back into normal space as he perceived that the Station, and the alien presence within it, were suddenly much closer.

Less than two seconds after the Star Destroyers exited hyperspace, the Devastator's ion canons began to fire, followed an instant later by the Avenger's. A storm of blue-white energy bolts crossed the distance to the Station, washing over its unshielded hull. Arcs of uncontrolled energy crackled and sparked across its surface.

"Scans report the station has lost main power!" an officer reported, but Lord Vader already knew. He could feel the surprise and alarm emanating from the entity within, and it gave him a sense of cold satisfaction.

Now you will learn that a Lord of the Sith is not your play thing.

"Cease fire."

The onslaught ceased.

Lord Vader turned to regard Captain Wissel, cold anger and satisfaction rising in him as he readied himself for what was to come.

"Prepare a boarding party."

"Well, Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?"

"Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow though."

-Generals William T. Sherman and Ulysses S Grant, the Battle of Shiloh.

"You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?"-Terry Pratchett's DEATH.

If the Caretaker doesn't want the Kazon to have the station, I'm pretty sure he wouldn't be enthused about Vader having it. I wonder if he'll be able to self destruct in time, or like in Voyager's first episode, be utterly reliant on the kindness of those he kidnapped.

Commander Flynt crouched in the hold of the TIE Shuttle, the roar of the twin engines that made the deck plates vibrate beneath his feet muted by the white armor that coated him from head to toe. Through the eyes of his helmet he could see the rest of the squad, clutching blasters to their chests as they crossed the empty space between the Devastator's hanger bay and the Station.

If some fool had told me a week ago that I'd be on the far side of the blazing universe, following Lord Vader as we breached an alien station powerful enough to toss a dreadnought and escorts between star systems, I'd have thought they were bleeding high on spice, he thought to himself. He glanced briefly at Lord Vader without moving his head, wondering if the Dark Lord had read his thoughts. Lord Vader stood silent and implacable, facing toward the front of the shuttle, his head raised slightly, gaze seemingly locked on the approaching station through the walls of the shuttle. He gripped his lightsaber, still unlit, in his hand.

The roar of the engines faded to a dull hum, and Flynt checked his blaster, making sure that it was fully charged, the tibanna gas reserves full, and the safety off. He looked up at his men, standing at attention.

"Blasters ready."

A chorus of clicks greeted the command. A moment later, there was a slight jolt, which he knew must be the shuttle docking with the outside of the station. He turned to face the hatch, taking up his station behind and just to the right of Lord Vader. It was an honour, he knew, to be standing in this place, one accorded only to the best Imperial stormtroopers, and he meant to acquit himself well.

The price for failure, he knew, would be death.

The Dark Lord tilted his head slightly, as if listening to something. Then he turned to face the hatch. It swung inward, and in the red glare of the shuttle's interior lighting, Flynt saw a smooth, greyish stretch of hull. So, they hadn't been able to dock with an airlock. They'd have to breach the hull. He reached for one of the charges on his belt, but stopped as the red blade of Lord Vader's lightsaber extended with a deep, menacing hum, its ruby-red light accentuating that of the shuttle's hold. The blade plunged nearly to its hilt in the hull, Vader rotating it in a smooth, steady oval as he cut a hole, nearly as large as the hatch, in the side of the Station. The blade retracted, leaving a glowing orange molten outline around the section of hull. Then the Dark Lord extended his hand, and a chunk of metal that must have weighed hundreds of pounds tore loose from the wall and shot into the dark interior of the Station, striking something metallic-sounding with a resounding clang before it fell to the deck with a heavy thud. A gust of wind blew into the shuttle's interior as the pressures equalized, making the Dark Lord's cape billow behind him.

Without a word, Darth Vader lifted himself through the gap he had cut in the Station's hull, the still-glowing edges of the hole somehow not singing the fabric of his cloak. Commander Flynt gathered himself and stepped through after him, gesturing for his squad to follow.

"Come on."

***

Trooper AR-137, known to his squad mates as Domino, clutched his blaster rifle to his chest as the squad advanced down the dimly-lit halls of the alien station, the dark, bluish wall-plating lit red by the glow of Lord Vader's lightsabre. He'd never been in a boarding action before, but he'd heard plenty of stories- one of his buddies from the Academy had died in a hall like this, shot through the head by a Rebel trooper. And that had been an ordinary hall, in an ordinary ship, in a familiar freaking galaxy. Not like this. The officers had tried to keep quiet what had happened to the fleet, probably didn't want to cause a panic or demoralize the men, but rumours spread quickly on a starship, even on the Executor.

I could die here, he thought. Shot or cut to pieces or sucked out into space or--or dematerialized--like the bridge crew.

Stow that thinking, soldier, he told himself, glancing to the head of the column, and the red-tinted shadow of Lord Vader's cloak. We have Lord Vader. He isn't afraid, and he'll have your hide if he thinks you are.

***

He strode down the hallways of the alien station, his footfalls echoing off the metallic deck plates, the only sound beside the rasp of his respirator, the hum of his light sabre, and the clanking of the squad of stormtroopers following dutifully behind their lord. He strode through the corridors with single-minded purpose, turning once right, once left, then right again, always moving towards the presence, the great alien mind, that he sensed at the heart of this station. Its presence felt weaker now, somehow... sicker.

Its dying, he realized, with a flicker of irritation. Had their assault somehow injured it? Or was its condition due to other causes? It did not matter.

Death itself will not cheat me of my vengeance.

A door barred their path. Two of the troopers moved forward at an order from their commander, no doubt to place blasting charges, but he held up a hand and they halted a few feet behind him. Reaching out with the Force to grasp the sides of the heavy metal blast door, he called on the Dark Side: on his frustration, his anger at the alien who had abducted them, at being stranded in a strange galaxy, at the Emperor for sending them on this fool's errand that kept him from finding his son, at Obi-wan for hiding Luke from him all these years, at Pad-

With a thunderous roar and a screech of tearing metal, the door ripped loose from its frame. A slight effort, and its various pieces were pushed back through the doorway to crash to the floor on the other side, making the walls and deck around him tremble.

Beneath his mask, he smiled. Then he strode through the door, his sabre held at guard in front of him.

He found himself in a familiar, broad chamber. If it was indeed the same one where the Executor's bridge crew had been deposited upon their arrival, then the damage he had done to the walls had already been repaired. No matter. He could disable the holograms as easily once again, if they had not already been disabled by the ion canons.

The crossed the chamber without incident. He used his lightsabre to cut through the blast doors on the opposite side. Before him stretched another long, empty hall, but at its end, perhaps a hundred paces distant, he could sense the presence that he was seeking. They were close now. He quickened his step.

At the end of the hall was yet another door. Vader ripped it from its frame and dropped it to the floor with a resounding clang. He paused for a moment in the entry, considering. The creature within was weakened, but it still possessed a mind of vast depth and cunning. It reminded him a little of standing in the presence of his Master, although there was a... warmth, a spark to this consciousness that the Emperor utterly lacked. He reached out, probing with his thoughts, but he sensed no great power in the Force.

Come on in. Don't be shy. Its not as though I can stop you, now.

He froze as the thoughts echoed inside his head. He drew on the Dark Side, preparing to hurl it at his mental assailant, but he felt no aggression, no attempt to penetrate or control his mind. And still no hint that this creature was using the Force. Just weary pain and wry bemusement, resignation and regret.

He strode into the chamber, his lightsabre casting flickering red-lined shadows on its walls. It looked, he thought with a trace of grim amusement, as though the walls themselves ran with blood. He moved forward, and as he did he became aware of a shape sitting in the centre of the chamber. It was large, roughly-man sized, but ill-formed- a pulsing blob of semi-translucent matter, lit red by the light from his blade. One or two of the troopers muttered to themselves behind him as they fanned out, covering it with their blasters.

"So you have found me", the creature said. Not with its mind now, but in ordinary speech, though it had no mouth with which to speak. "I suppose I miscalculated, eh? I probably... ought to have thrown you into the sun, or to the far side of the galaxy. Now... I will not be able to finish my work."

Despite his anger, Vader was intrigued.

"Your work?"

"Obligations", the creature said. "A debt that can never be repaid."

"Explain."

The creature hesitated.

"I don't suppose it matters now", it said finally. "Without my protection, they are lost."

"I grow tired of your riddles. Answer me now, and I will grant you a speedy death."

"I... suppose... I have no choice... do I", it replied. "My kind are... are travelers from another galaxy."

Vader tensed, wanting to rip the answers from this alien's dying mind. Had it brought them here? Did it have the power to return them?

The creature chuckled.

"No, I did not bring you here. You were brought here by a wormhole, not by my power. Strange. I've never seen one that large, just... appear out of nothing like that. Curious."

"Why did you abduct my men?"

"I needed to find a compatible specimen. Someone to... to carry on the work, when I am gone."

"You..." for a moment, Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, was speechless. "You were trying to procreate?"

"Please, you must... help them. Protect them, when I am gone."

Vader still had no idea what the creature was talking about, but he found that he no longer cared.

"Your work is no concern of mine", he hissed. "And this conversation is at an end. Now, you will feel the full power of the Dark Side." He reached out with the Force once more, wrapping the creature in invisible power. He felt its sudden fear, sharp and panicked, and he suddenly realized that it had been stalling, drawing out the conversation while it bypassed the damage to the Station's internal systems to... to access the self-destruct mechanism.

With a snarl, he tightened his grip, lifting the pulsating mass higher into the hair as he slowly crushed the life from it. He felt a spike of pain, even as its mind began to weaken and die. It shrank, the power of the Dark Side crushing it into a smaller and smaller ball of matter, its colour darkening and its texture hardening. He felt its presence fade and disappear, becoming one with the Force.

A small lump of dry, greyish matter fell to the deck, breaking into smaller pieces as it landed.

"Transport that to the Executor's medical bay for examination", he said, "and return to the shuttles immediately." He wasn't certain if the creature had successfully activated the self-destruct, and if it had, then there was no time to bring an engineering team over from the Executor to try to shut it off. He didn't sense any immediate danger, now, but they could afford to be cautious.

Without another word, Lord Vader turned and swept from the chamber, the storm troopers hurrying in his wake.

"Well, Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?"

"Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow though."

-Generals William T. Sherman and Ulysses S Grant, the Battle of Shiloh.

"You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?"-Terry Pratchett's DEATH.

Good job. Considering the wormhole's sudden appearance and disappearance (which surprised the Caretaker himself), did Q have a hand in the Executor's stranding in the Delta Quadrant? And what will happen to Ensign Biel?

So, the Caretaker has departed, and the Executor crew said they ran into a ship brought here. Possibly the Val Jean? It would be interesting to see how an Imperial ensign deals with a Half-Klingon Maquis.

Also interesting to see that Vader almost had a sense of longing. One wonders what will happen if he reforms while in the Star Trek galaxy.

So, the Caretaker has departed, and the Executor crew said they ran into a ship brought here. Possibly the Val Jean? It would be interesting to see how an Imperial ensign deals with a Half-Klingon Maquis.

Also interesting to see that Vader almost had a sense of longing. One wonders what will happen if he reforms while in the Star Trek galaxy.

Without giving away too much, I am very much looking forward to bring the Imperials into contact with Federation folks (which the Marquis pretty much are- they may be dissidents/rebels, but they are still ultimately largely a product of Federation culture).

I am of the opinion that one of the reasons why Star Trek vs. Star Wars is such a classic crossover, aside from the status of the two franchises in popular culture, is that the Federation's idealism and triumph through science and diplomacy make it a natural foil to the gargantuan semi-theocratic military machine that is the Empire. The contrast between the two, and the ways that they can play off each other, is just delicious.

As to Vader- though he's a mass murderer and a tyrant, he's probably the most complicated and nuanced character among the Sith, and the only one who actually has some real sympathetic qualities. Which is why he's so interesting to write about.

"Well, Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?"

"Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow though."

-Generals William T. Sherman and Ulysses S Grant, the Battle of Shiloh.

"You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?"-Terry Pratchett's DEATH.

Librium Arcana, Where Gamers Play!
Nitram, slightly high on cough syrup: Do you know you're beautiful?
Me: Nope, that's why I have you around to tell me.
Nitram: You -are- beautiful. Anyone tries to tell you otherwise kill them."A life is like a garden. Perfect moments can be had, but not preserved, except in memory. LLAP" -- Leonard Nimoy, last Tweet

This story's one year anniversary is next month. I'd like to have another chapter (maybe two) up by then, to thoroughly round out the conclusion of the first act, and lay the ground work for the second.

"Well, Grant, we've had the devil's own day, haven't we?"

"Yes. Lick 'em tomorrow though."

-Generals William T. Sherman and Ulysses S Grant, the Battle of Shiloh.

"You need to believe in things that aren't true. How else can they become?"-Terry Pratchett's DEATH.